


The tide is full, the moon lies fair

by TheLighthouse



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Could I have crammed more sea metaphors in this?? Come and find out, Established Relationship, F/M, It gets corny you’ve been warned, Relationship Problems, Relationship Study, bubbling under the surface, ngl this borders on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLighthouse/pseuds/TheLighthouse
Summary: ‘But it was okay. Everything was just as it should be. It was probably best for their… relationship, or whatever, that they parted often. Mermista was sure she couldn’t handle Sea Hawk twenty-four-seven.’Sea Hawk arrives too late for a party Mermista invited him to. It causes them both to reflect on their long and unorthodox relationship.





	The tide is full, the moon lies fair

The view of the ocean was lovely and bright this morning, but Mermista couldn’t enjoy it. She was in the main hall, listening to the party planner who insisted on detailing the processional order for tonight’s celebration.

“First march one hundred ceremonial guards, followed by the Children of the Queen’s Sirens Chorus. Then come trumpeters, drummers, flautists,” the man said.

“Mm-hmm,” said Mermista, impatiently.

The planner was talking slowly because Mermista’s attention wasn’t fully with him. But Mermista’s attention wasn’t fully with him because she _knew_ royal processions. They all looked exactly the same.

“They are followed by fourteen members of the Order of the Sea Lions. Gentlemen harbingers. Sergeant porters. Attending gentlemen and esquires.”

“Yes, yes,” droned Mermista. _I did my first procession when I was three_, she wished she could tell him instead.

She’d appointed a royal party planner years ago, precisely with the intent of avoiding the drudgeries of planning one. But apparently there were a million things that absolutely _required_ her to be there.

Her gaze focused on the ceiling, and her stomach tied itself into a knot.

“Foreign Ambassadors, starting with-”

“Hold on,” Mermista interrupted. “Have someone set those banners like _way_ higher.”

“Higher than that, your Highness?” the planner asked.

Mermista fixed him with a tired scowl. “Lady Solence tends to _hover_, remember? She’s gonna bump into them at four feet off the ground.”

“Right away, princess.” He waved someone over and instructed them to raise the banners.

Then he went on listing the procession, not without irritation at being interrupted, which Mermista didn’t appreciate. If _she_ had to have a million things in her head at once, so did everyone else.

It was annoying, really, that this holiday meant this much work for her. If Mermista had her way, she’d be celebrating the first anniversary of the Horde’s defeat by the sea, with a drink in her hand, and _no one_ around to bother her.

Instead she was overseeing a kingdom-wide dolling up, and then spending the evening in a stuffy room, entertaining guests, escorted by a date from the ranks of Salinean noblemen whom she’d never met before.

One of her advisors had suggested asking the son of a family whose patriarch had, sometime in the past year, provided three hundred swords for the cause against the Horde and never seen a reward for it, and she’d given the go-ahead to send him a last-minute invite.

She’d invited Sea Hawk, initially. But he’d never replied.

A maid came running to give the planner a message, carrying the seating plan.

The party planner received the message and turned to Mermista. “My Princess, the Count and Countess of Paradies just confirmed they are coming after all. These are the tables yet to fill up. Would you have them in four or sixteen?”

“Table sixteen,” she said distractedly.

“In table sixteen they’d be next to the Earl of Fallyn,” the planner replied.

She glared at him. “Then I guess there’s really _only_ table four.”

The man blanched. “Yes, Princess.”

Mermista hadn’t taken an untroubled breath all morning. _Uneasy is the head that wears the crown_. When her dad had drilled those lessons into her head, she’d always assumed he meant like wars and court intrigue. She’d thought the trials of ruling would all involve moral quandaries and alliances and commerce-related decisions. Nope. The bane of her existence were the parties, the pleasantries, and the small talk.

Who knew peace times could suck so much?

* * *

Sea Hawk arrived in Salineas with all the pomp and pride of knowing himself wanted and officially summoned. He anchored his ship in the harbor at the spot in full view of the window Mermista usually looked out of and went straight to a tavern. As he ate his dinner, he tuned in to the conversations around him.

“…No, lord Bittencourt. The youngest son.”

“Why’d she pick that family?”

The first creature shrugged. “Logrolling. Court stuff. Anyway he and the princess are meant to ride through Main Street on their way to the party.”

Sea Hawk choked on his food, coughed a few times, swallowed his drink quickly, and went to the two men in question.

“Excuse me,” he said, drawing a chair to sit among them, ignoring the nasty looks they shot him. “Could you repeat what you said just now? About the princess? Going to the celebration with some lord?”

The two looked him up and down. Sea Hawk observed them back. One was a Shark, the other a skinny Fish.

“What’s it to you?” spat the Shark.

“I just want to make sure we have the same princess,” laughed Sea Hawk. “You see, our princess _Mermista_ is not going with some noble fool.” He straightened his back, and pointed a victorious thumb towards himself, flashing a smile. “She’s going with _me_!”

There were a few seconds of silence. Then the two creatures exploded in raucous laughter. A couple of tables nearby joined in, too. As always, Sea Hawk had spoken quite loud.

“You?” A Frog woman exclaimed. “I think _you_ need to watch your mouth, sailor. You could get flogged for telling those lies.”

Sea Hawk allowed the laughter to die down. Now, he was used to this reaction. A lot of people didn’t really know about him and Mermista. A lot more didn’t believe it. Mermista could be very convincing at making people completely believe they had no relationship whatsoever, and she barely had to try, too. Only a small inner circle ever really gleamed the truth.

But those few people did find out. It happened when they noticed that Sea Hawk stuck around longer than they would have expected. When they realized Mermista actively kept him around. When they took notice of the many things she gave him, the ships and favors and royal permits –gift-giving was her love language, he’d decided a while ago. Sea Hawk was used to going through this routine with strangers—even with townspeople who’d lived in S all their lives.

“I’m not a sailor, madam,” he answered to the Frog in the other table. “I’m a captain. And it so happens that the princess and I go way back.”

Cue more laughter.

A man occupying a table alone, who hadn’t been laughing, called out. “Wait, I know you. You’re that captain… Seabird, was it? You got that really good exclusive sailing route treaty from the princess a while back.”

“Ah-ha! Thank you!” Sea Hawk responded triumphally, standing on his chair. “See?” He called down at his present table. “It’s Seahawk, actually, my good si-”

“Aren’t you the one who started juggling candlesticks at the queen’s birthday party and set the mantelpiece on fire?” the deep, subdued voice of a Fish man piped up.

Sea Hawk faltered. “Yeah, but-”

“Yes, I remember you!” cried someone else. “Aren’t you supposed to be exiled in the north?”

Sea Hawk pouted. “No, that _expired_.”

“I remember when you broke into the palace’s courtyard to serenade the princess and the king went out on his pajamas with a sword,” said the bartender, who Sea Hawk knew, and who had never liked him.

Sea Hawk pointed at her. “A-ha! But that was the king-!”

“And then then princess came out and told the king to just banish you again,” the bartender finished.

Sea Hawk’s finger froze in midair, and was forced to nod. “Right. I didn’t remember that part.”

“And you want us to believe the princess invited _you_ to the celebration?” said the Fish man from his present table.

“You don’t have to believe me,” Sea Hawk responded. “You just have to wait and see.”

“Right, right.”

Sea Hawk jumped down and sat back on his chair. “And you have to tell me the name of this… _pretender_.”

The Shark looked at him. “You mean Lord Bittencourt?”

“Lord Bittencourt!” Sea Hawk repeated it like a curse, hoisting one leg on the table. He heard at least one person choke on their drink. “Such is the name of my enemy!”

Sea Hawk drew his table mates closer, and his eyes narrowed with practiced flair, into a face he called –having named it after practicing in front of the mirror- righteous danger. Or dangerous righteousness. “And _where_ might I find this Lord Bittencourt?”

* * *

Mermista had in front of her two identical cloth napkins, or so it seemed to her.

She looked up at the maid and the party planner, who both looked at her expectantly. “That one,” she said, pointing at one.

“Very good, your Highness,” said the planner, giving the napkins to the maid.

As the maid scurried away, Mermista glanced at the window on instinct. Then she looked again, her heart dropping.

Sea Hawk’s ship was in the harbor. How hadn’t she seen it arriving? Had she been so busy she really hadn’t looked out the window for so long?

She felt the shortest twinge of joy –the easy happiness and excitement she got when she knew he was on shore. But it was immediately overcome by dread. He’d come after all. He was bound to find out about her new date soon. And if she knew Sea Hawk at all, she knew he’d be tracking down that noble and trying to pick a fight with him.

The royal party planner turned to her, oblivious to all. “Princess? We are to pick the centerpieces now. Would you prefer a-?”

“Hold that thought,” said Mermista, in an annoyed tone that didn’t at all betray her panic, already rushing down the stairs. “I need to prevent a disaster.”

* * *

Sea Hawk stepped onto the square. He found the live performance his new friends at the tavern had indicated, and he saw a central table occupied by a fancy-looking people surrounded by armed guards.

Just to be sure, he leaned over to a man nearby. “Which one is Lord Bittencourt?”

The man pointed at the man Sea Hawk already had on sight. From here he thought him a short, soft-looking fool. He approached the table.

“Lord Bittencourt,” he began, ignoring the people clamoring for him to get out of the way of the stage. “I’ve come to settle an account. You’ve spewed falsehoods and done me a personal disservice-”

As Sea Hawk spoke, the Lord made a gesture to a guard. The guard threw a few coins at Sea Hawk, interrupting him. The pirate was thrown off for a moment. Then he tossed the coins aside and placed himself between the Lord and the play.

“Sir, I call you a liar and a fraud. I formally challenge you to a duel.”

Sea Hawk pulled his sword and was immediately apprehended by the guards around him.

The guards had acted so quickly that the Lord never roused. Without looking once at Sea Hawk, he turned to the servant next to him. “What’s this about?”

“I think he’s one of the peasants who got their land taken by last year’s market expansion, my Lord,” answered the man.

Sea Hawk was about ready to burst. “I’m Captain Sea Hawk! You’re Lord Bittencourt! You’ve been saying you’re attending tonight’s celebration with the princess Mermista! That was a lie!” swaying the guards’ arms with him when he tried to gesture while bound.

“The Lord was formally invited to the ball by her Highness the Princess,” said the servant, while his master tried to peek behind Sea Hawk to look at the play. “You challenge that?”

“I do challenge it. I challenge it to _hell_ and back!”

Most people had cleared the area around them by now. The actors had gone into a hasty intermission, and perhaps for that reason Lord Bittencourt deigned to look up at pirate. “I was indeed _dragged_ here by a royal summons. If I hadn’t been, I would not be caught dead in this wet and briny town,” he gestured vaguely at Sea Hawk, “that seems to spawn wet-brained people.”

Sea Hawk’s face darkened, and this time he wasn’t making a pre-practiced expression. “Then I’ll see you on the dueling ground, sir.”

Lord Bittencourt went back to not looking at him. “Whatever,” he said. He looked towards his entourage. “You, page.”

A boy stepped forward. “Delgoose, my lord,” he said.

“You will duel with him,” said the Lord, gesturing towards Sea Hawk.

The page blanched. “Huh?”

Sea Hawk was set free and went to tower over the boy. “You’ll regret defending your master’s honor, boy.”

A familiar drone entered the square. “Everyone shut up. No one’s fighting anything.”

The lord, his entourage, and the people who were left around them all stood and bowed.

“Princess!” Sea Hawk leapt towards her, falling on his knees in front of her. He skipped the usual adage to her beauty, and went straight to the topic at hand. “These scoundrels are going around saying this _dunce_ is going to escort you to the party,” he explained, holding her hand with both of his. “I will gladly fight them for your honor.”

Mermista was massaging the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “Sea Hawk, get _up_. There’s not gonna be a duel.”

The Lord did a flourish. “As my princess commands.”

Sea Hawk was still on the ground, clutching her hand. “I am not going to let slide the rumors they spread high and wide-”

Mermista cut him off. “It’s not a rumor, I _am_ going to the ball with him.”

The way Sea Hawk’s face dropped almost made her forget she was embarrassed of him.

“…What?” he made out. Lord Bittencourt and his entourage were smirking, but Sea Hawk didn’t see them. He didn’t hear the guards snicker, either. “No you’re not.”

The Lord got up, apparently wanting to show off now Mermista was here. “Who do you think you are to talk to your princess that way, scoundrel?”

Sea Hawk got up to glare at him. “I already used that word, little boy.”

“You heard the princess herself say-” the lord started.

They were all interrupted by the royal party planner, who came puffing in to talk to Mermista. “Princess. The wine delivery never came through this morning. Would you have us order from-?”

Mermista threw her head back and groaned. “_Ugghh_, this is all. _So_. _Boring_.”

Sea Hawk’s heart dropped, because he recognized the way Mermista got when she was overwhelmed. It pained him to consider that he was contributing to her stress. He didn’t feel like protesting any more after that.

As Mermista turned to leave, Lord Bittencourt tremulously said, “Princess. Shall I still, uh, pick you up at seven?”

Sea Hawk derived a small smidge of satisfaction from the way she turned to the lord with a cold glance, said “Um. Why wouldn’t you?” and didn’t wait for a response before she left, pushing Sea Hawk away from the square.

* * *

Sea Hawk never knew what he’d find, when he came ashore to see Mermista.

Very few times had she been glad to see him _straight away_. Usually he had to work for her attention—usually she made him earn it. He was used to coming into her hall and her frowning at him, like his sole existence personally ruined her day. That was _fine_. He knew better. He knew he just had to give her some time to warm up to him again. It was almost a game by this point.

And then there were times like this, when she was too stressed to engage in the usual dance. She was playing no games now. As she led him through the castle, her mind was half on whatever she actually needed to be doing. When she took him out on her balcony and closed the door, she was just trying to talk him down quickly so she could go on with her day.

“I didn’t know if you were gonna make it, and I had to have a date for the party. It’s that simple,” she was telling him.

Sea Hawk had his arms on the rail and was frowning at the ocean. “Well, I’m here now, so call it off,” he countered.

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, I want to still have a relationship with the Bittencourts when this is over, so that’s a _no_.”

“How could you think I wouldn’t come?” he asked, turning to her. “I’ve always come through for you.”

“I was supposed to just _wait_? And hope for the best?” she spat. Her voice got dangerously close to emotion there. She was angrier than he would have expected. She must really be stressed out from the party, Sea Hawk thought.

He turned away, frustrated. He was mostly angry at himself. Why hadn’t he just replied to the invitation? Why did he always have to sweep in last minute in a blaze of glory?

“For all I knew, the message never made it to you,” Mermista went on. “You just took too long this time, Sea Hawk.”

He didn’t face her, and he didn’t respond. He didn’t like being the jealous guy, and he could tell she was at the end of her patience. But he couldn’t let this go. He couldn’t feel alright about her going out with someone else.

Mermista eyed him warily. Knowing him, he might do something crazy. Like crash the party, or make it so her date never arrived to it. She had to deter him if she wanted to save the stupid party.

She approached him.

“Sea Hawk, I am not replacing you or whatever. This is a dimwit lord’s son I’m letting take me to one ball, one time,” she told him, matter-of-factly. “It’s a politics thing. You’re overreacting.”

Nothing. She touched his arm. He finally faced her.

“Look, come find me tomorrow,” she said, and her voice was close to tenderness. “Noon-ish. We’ll hang out.”

He knew she was just throwing him a bone. He knew it was just so he wouldn’t make a scene at the party. But she looked up at him with the prettiest eyes in the world –seriously, what gave her the right to be this beautiful?-, and he caved.

“Fine,” he said.

“And _don’t_._ Show up at the party_.”

He thought of how he wouldn’t get to see her in whatever outfit she picked. How they wouldn’t dance together. And all the other things he would miss. “…I won’t.”

As soon as he had agreed, she whipped around and ran off to wherever she needed to be. Sea Hawk stared after her for a while. Then, with nowhere to be and no one needing him, he slowly made his way out of the palace.

* * *

It was only a while after Sea Hawk left, and Mermista was looking at menu options, that she realized she’d never even greeted him properly. She’d sent him back –stashed him away until tomorrow—without so much as a kiss. How long had it been now, then, since she’d last kissed him? He hadn’t been through these shores in weeks…

It was totally fine, though. This wasn’t the first time he found her in a bad mood, or the first time she couldn’t receive him, and it wouldn’t be the last. The reason was simple: he obviously knew when he planned on washing ashore, but _she_ had no way of knowing when he’d show up again.

Mermista was used to his unexpected visits by now. When he lost a ship, when he ran out of food or fuel, he came to her. When he had a few extra days between destinations and could squeeze in a visit to the capital, he came to her. He’d said before, in one of his usual fits of verbosity, that she was his port. So she was always ready for a surprise visit. Her ship makers were ready at a moment’s notice in case Sea Hawk had burned down his boat, and the castle held several sets of clothes for him, and a room was always cleared in case he came by in the night. She didn’t like to dwell on how ready she was for him to drop by whenever, but there it was.

It used to be that every time he left, she managed to delude herself. She told herself that he wasn’t such a big deal in her life. That she could live without him. Well, she _could_—she managed just fine without him. She liked her alone time, too.

But then he’d come ashore—she’d see his ship on the harbor—she’d see him step out on the shore, his figure cut against the horizon, and she would _feel_… excited, and happy, and relieved, and distracted… and she knew she’d been lying to herself before; that nothing compared to having him around. That no one else in her life gave her this feeling. So every time, when he first arrived, she hated him a little. For having that sway on her.

She hated that he left, and she hated that he came waltzing back into her life like it was nothing. And she loved that he could make her feel so much.

But it was okay. Everything was just as it should be. It was probably best for their… relationship, or whatever, that they parted often. Mermista was sure she couldn’t handle Sea Hawk twenty-four-seven.

And he never came when she wanted him to. Never when she was lonely and actually missed him; never when she was bored. No, he came when she was stressed, or in the middle of something, or already had plans. Very rarely did he catch her in a good moment, to the point where she’d come to expect him to come sauntering in when she was most stressed. But he never did, because _he literally only came when she didn’t expect him_.

One time, she’d been so angry he came in the middle of a treaty signing, she’d told him to get the hell out of her kingdom, and he’d actually _left_, the big idiot.

She wasn’t dumb; she knew it pained him sometimes, when she was distant, when she brushed him off. She’d seen it today, when she turned him away until the next day. But he was no solid ground to depend on, either. Hell, why _should _she have to work through her own shortcomings, when he was here _so little_? Why should she be any sweeter, any more attentive? Why should she be a proper girlfriend when he then packed up and _left_ for weeks or months on end?

She would never call him out on it, either. She couldn’t. She knew how much he loved his freedom and the sea. It was too much part of who he was.

Sea Hawk was most like himself when he was in the ocean. When he was free and moving and a thousand things required his attention. Mermista could see how jittery he’d start to get on land, with nothing to do.

She had first understood it the first time he took her sailing, some three months after they started properly dating. She had been on the fence about him since the moment they met and he started flirting with her, and she wouldn’t have been able to say, at the time, why she kept agreeing to see him. But on that day, at a certain moment, he’d been excitedly showing her all the things he did on a daily basis, sharing all the sights in constant change he was so used to seeing, and he’d looked so earnest, and happy, and _full_. She’d watched him, and, far away from the palace, far from the shore and every other human being, she finally found it in herself to admit some things about herself.

She had gone right up to him and kissed him. Because he was simply the first person that made her _want to_. The first person with whom this made sense. And that had been their first kiss.

No matter how much she hated the fact sometimes, no matter how much she’d tried to make it be otherwise… that was the way she liked him. Unpredictable. Like the sea.

Wild, unchained, unapologetic. A lot dumb, sometimes. Also like the sea.

* * *

Hours later, as night began to fall over Salineas, Sea Hawk stood on the deck of his ship and watched the procession. The road from the palace to the Sirenia Ballroom would be lighted, so the townspeople could greet the nobles as they passed. Mermista and _that lord_ would be riding in the last chariot. No one would see Sea Hawk, with all the lights off on his ship in the dark shore.

He believed Mermista when she said this wasn’t a real date. He knew she saw these functions as mere political events. He _trusted_ her. But… he couldn’t help but feel the danger anyhow. What if, mid-date with this other guy, she realized this was so much easier than dating _him_? What if she decided it was easier to just start taking noble guys to fancy events from now on? And then she got used to it? And it started making much more sense in her mind to date people of her same social standing? What if one day Sea Hawk came to her and she just… didn’t want him anymore?

Was this it? Was this the beginning of that end?

He watched the last chariot set into motion outside of the castle. He followed the chariot with his eyes, as it rode through the main street slowly, and the townspeople waved and cheered, until it stopped outside the venue. Far-off stains that could be the lord and Mermista got off, and then walked up the grand stairs leading into the ballroom. The townspeople turned off their lights and slowly fell back home.

“Well, it’s just you and me tonight, girl,” Sea Hawk said, caressing the rail. Talking to his ship didn’t comfort him like it usually did.

Five years. No less than five years they had been together, and that wasn’t even counting the solid year he’d continuously begged her to go out with him. They were practically _married_. At least, that’s how Sea Hawk thought of it in his head.

And he usually went with the flow of whatever she felt like treating him like on any given day. It was simple for him. He wasn’t a demanding man. He loved Mermista, and he knew he preferred life with her to any other life. He wasn’t about to complain. He was happy enough knowing that she loved him, really, no matter what she said. He rested easy with the knowledge that he knew her better than anyone else in their lives.

Back when they were newly dating, once he’d taken her on a sailing trip, for their tenth date. At that point in time he’d been courting her for over a year, and then restaging what by now was a pleading ritual to obtain any subsequent date. He was completely tuned in to her every gesture and expression, attentive to any change of tide, to any indication of what she really felt beyond what she said, because Mermista was always such perfectly still water at first sight, that she could almost be ice.

He _thought_ he got her. He thought he could tell when she meant something and when she didn’t.

Every single person in his life thought he was crazy. His crew –what was left of it- all thought he was just chasing after a girl who wasn’t interested, but he sustained something… she was _different_ when they were alone. She looked at him different, she talked to him, she seemed to like him being there. She just couldn’t _say it_. He held on to that desperate belief for weeks, maybe months, because at the end of the day, she allowed him to hang around her, and she hadn’t sent him to the dungeons since that first time in the square—and he _had_ put her on the spot that time. Just now she’d agreed to a several-weeks long voyage. That had to count for something, right?

His crew had all shaken their heads, and reminded him he was a pirate chasing after their very own princess, and Sea Hawk saw their point, but… he was already in love. He was completely hers, he was too far gone, he was done for. He couldn’t do anything about it _now_. No, he wouldn’t stop hanging around her until she told him to stop.

He didn’t even think too hard about labels back then. He was content just being around her, hanging out, being allowed to _look_ at her. It didn’t matter if she didn’t really like him—he didn’t dwell on that. He was already so far past the point of his wildest dreams, so beyond stretching his luck, and way past what everyone around him would say he deserved. He wasn’t worried about the future. He was just focused on showing her as good a time as he could possibly manage.

And then, on the third day of that trip, he was showing her a family of meerrots, small flying creatures that hid in caves. He saw them at the same time every time he passed through the area, and he knew they only came out for a few seconds each day. He didn’t think there was anything particularly romantic about them. But she’d gone to him, tugged the collar of his jacket to pull him down to her height, and kissed him.

And in that moment –that sweet, maddening, all-encompassing moment- Sea Hawk found confirmed all he’d dearly hoped—that for all she said, she really did like him too.

He never thought he had her wrong again. It was official: when he thought he understood her, he really did. He really knew her more than anyone. He was right where everybody else was wrong.

And then for the next five years, he’d considered her his home.

She was his port. His anchor. So constant, stable, and endless. Just like the sea.

But still waters could turn treacherous in a moment; the whole world could be upturned in one storm, and without so much as a change of wind to herald it—not if one wasn’t looking for it, not if one thought they were safe.

And what sort of future could there be between a princess and a pirate?

* * *

Mermista’s saree was turquoise lined with gold. The choli underneath was gold. She had put half of her hair up in a bun, painted her eyes with blue shadow, and told her reflection the sucky past was over, and to try and enjoy the actual party.

In the chariot on the way to the Ballroom, lord Bittencourt pointed out the architecture of the buildings that were similar to those of his town of origin, no doubt to spark in her an interest to visit his home soon, and had she read A Treatise on the Law of Sea Kingdoms? His father happened to have a copy in his personal library.

Mermista knew he would have been told to take good care of her, to give the best impression—to do his part to advance his family as best he could. From what she’d seen of him so far, she knew he would play his part well. She could tell from this point that everything tonight would go flawlessly; all would be formal and controlled and according to plan. No bumps, no shakes, no excitements along the way.

They got to the venue, and Mermista greeted people, doing her best to talk to everyone—her least favorite part.

If Sea Hawk was here now, he would take one look at her face, see how bored she was, and make some sort of scene –scream out or sing or jump at something, jump on a table and stage a magic show or organize a contest- if only to try and put some color in her cheeks. Embarrassment, and an urge to kill him, was better than monotony, in his mind. Then at least she wouldn’t be bored. He would always say that she could only remember the functions where he was by her side, because she couldn’t possibly tell apart the dull nights where everything went according to plan—and she would glare at him, but he was right.

Mermista suppressed a smile and forced herself to focus on her actual guests.

Damn him. She’d been distracted ever since Sea Hawk came on shore. Mermista always missed him the most when she knew he was close by but she couldn’t be with him for some reason.

She kept going back to his face earlier today. When he’d asked her to make him her date again. His pleading eyes then. How could he make her feel such a strong way just by looking at her? They had been apart way too long.

She was right about the lord. He behaved impeccably and stuck to her side all night. He filled spaces in conversations. He kept being courteous and pleasant, even when Mermista gave one-word responses. Even when she was outright dismissive. Like when he said “I don’t understand how sailors continuously go out to sea. If it were me, I’d never want to leave the docility of my green earth again.”

Mermista thought of the excitement of a sea trip. The ever-changing sceneries. The addictive sway of a ship. The water spraying her face. The fact that no trip was ever the same as another. She hadn’t tried to hide her disagreement. “Yeah, _you_ don’t get it.”

He’d changed course with hardly a ripple. “Of course, since I’ve never been proficient at braving the sea, I have no choice but to find happiness in noble land.”

He never dropped the subtle smile. If he wasn’t enjoying himself, if he was disappointed in her as a date and a princess, Mermista would likely never know.

Was this why she was drawn to Sea Hawk, she wondered? Was it that she was so tired of a life full of solemn royal forms and courtly hypocrisy that she was desperate for truth and candor? Was it a side effect of being raised in pomp and euphemisms and contained feelings that she was fascinated by that raw nerve of a pirate, who she soon understood could not tell a lie or mask his feelings to save his life?

Once, when they’d first met, she hadn’t trusted him at all. She’d never even _seen_ a pirate up close before; she didn’t know their kind at all. He’d been this young sailor brought into the palace because his ship had stolen so much rice in a year it had become a problem. They had struck gold discovering they could sell it on the other side of the world to a famished and fascinated civilization who had never seen it. But it had single-handedly altered the economic landscape, and they had caught royal attention. Sea Hawk was the newest member of the crew at the time, and the one who took the fall when they decided to go down that line of business. Mermista had been outside the throne room too, wanting to speak with her father. Sea Hawk was being held back by guards, and he’d taken the time to flirt with the princess as he waited to be judged by the king. _Who did that?_

It had all gone downhill from there. After he got out of jail, he didn’t forget her. The first thing he did when she saw him again was ask her out, right in front of everyone in the square. She _had_ to throw him in jail for that one.

Then he went looking for her again.

She’d begun to like him before she knew what was happening. It was easy—he was so carefree, and nothing seemed to matter as much when he was around, and he made her feel as free as he felt. Mermista just looked to her side one day and she had this permanent fixture in her life, a pirate who refused to give up. She told herself it just wasn’t worth the effort of getting him to go away; she told herself she was condescending to let him hang around her because it was the path of least resistance. She was just _enduring_.

Besides, while he assured her he still dreamed of going out with her, he’d never really tried anything beyond _talking_.

There was almost a rhythm to his relentlessness—a sureness, like he didn’t consider her snubs as defeats as much as just _progress_. He was reliable in his perseverance. Insistent. Like the waves kissing the shoreline, again and again and again…

Well. She didn’t seem to be able to focus tonight. It really _had_ been too long.

* * *

The water carried the sounds of the party all the way into the captain’s cabin. Sea Hawk lay in his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the night quieted down.

He looked at his clock. Nine twenty. They would be setting up for the second dance now. Every royal party was exactly the same. He could just about see Mermista looking bored at the whole thing.

Once, Bow had asked him if the two of them had been childhood friends, like him and Glimmer. Sea Hawk had laughed heartily in response, because he enjoyed the implication that they knew each other so well they must have been friends forever, and also because the idea was ridiculous—they could have never grown up together. Being from the same kingdom, their circles had never collided. Mermista in the heights of society, him the son of a bayman who’d gone in as a sailor at age twelve. They only could have met how they did: out of sheer coincidence.

They day they were both waiting outside the king’s throne room, only she was the princess and he was arrested.

Mermista had been sixteen then, just like him, and worrying her parents with her perpetual apathy about the fact that she hadn’t connected with their rune stone and gotten her powers yet; she was past the point of a late bloomer—they were starting to worry there was something wrong with her. What they didn’t know was that she’d been connected to the Pearl since she was ten; she was just hiding it because she didn’t want to be left in charge.

At that point in time, her parents were meant to find out the truth within that year. But at that moment, Mermista was still a relatively carefree non-ruling princess, and her father was decidedly in charge.

Sea Hawk had turned to his side and seen her standing there, wearing a simple blue kurta and a bored expression, and –as he still maintained years later- fallen headfirst in love immediately.

He didn’t remember how he started talking to her. He did remember her reactions. She’d taken one look at him the first time he spoke and then never again. He was in a bit of an awkward position, with the guards holding him down slightly crouched, but he didn’t relent. She had her arms crossed, looking ahead, and apparently didn’t deem him worthy of the hassle of moving further away to avoid him. All the better for him.

At one point, Sea Hawk fell asleep among happy memories, even though he thought he wouldn’t. He woke up with the first morning rays already filtering through the small window.

He jumped out of bed, went on deck, and looked to all of his horizon. The sun was barely peeking in the east, infant waves licked the side of his ship, and a shy wind barely swept his hair. He filled his lungs with salty air.

Once upon a time, if he found himself in a place and a situation that grieved him, he’d just sail the other way. Just put his belongings into a ship and leave; or if he had no belongings, put himself into a ship; or if he had no ship, get any little boat that would do the job and sail away.

But that had changed since he’d met Mermista, since he’d loved her. Now, when things went south between them, even the sea seemed a colorless, bland place. It was no refuge for him anymore.

He couldn’t run away from this type of feeling; he could sail and sail and his problems would never fade away along with a fading shore—he _belonged_ somewhere now. Usually the thought comforted him.

Attachment and freedom were both double-edge swords. He could sail to the other end of the world, and his heart would still be anchored.

* * *

He met Mermista outside her apartments a little after noon. She looked like she’d bathed without taking off her makeup first, and there were soft shadows under her eyes. She looked tired, but relaxed—relieved it was over. Maybe a little hungover, too.

She gave him a sleepy smile. He smiled at how cute she looked, and she stepped into his arms. He closed his eyes and buried his hand on her softly curling hair. _Just let me have this a little longer_, he thought. He took comfort in the thought that she was his, after all. For however long as it lasted.

“Glad it’s over?” he asked her.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, furrowing into his chest. “At one point one of the children of the Chorus drew a napkin too close to a candle and made a small fire. It made me think of you,” she informed him dryly.

He laughed, and it rumbled through his chest. “Really. A small fire. Without me needing to be there?”

“Maybe the venue missed you,” she returned, moving away to look at his face—his handsome face with the jaw and the ridiculously sharp moustache and the hyper-expressive eyes. She’d missed the chance to really look at it, before.

She tilted her head up to kiss him, and the whole world fell into place. To come back into his arms after a long time was a feeling she wouldn’t trade for anything.

When they parted, she said, “Take me somewhere.”

They were down the stairs, out the palace and in the harbor in minutes.

As Sea Hawk untied the ship, Mermista went to the edge to watch the waves up the side of the ship. She took a deep breath, and her heart responded beating fast immediately. On a whim, she hoisted herself up over the rail and jumped. She summoned her mermaid tail in midair. The ship cleared the harbor. Sea Hawk went to the rail in time to watch her swim a couple of laps around the ship, the scales of her tail glistening in the sun. Then she rode on a wave of her own making back on the ship, gaining her legs back.

Sea Hawk put on his outside voice. “Behold, the mythical mermaid rising from the sea, gracing a humble ship with her beauty. Her hair soft like sea foam. Her eyes like two beacons-”

She cut him off with a kiss.

They sailed. With the sea swelling under their feet, and the horizon an ever-changing excuse to move forth, they went into the ocean.

Sea Hawk pushed Mermista’s wet hair behind her ear and smiled. The past and the future didn’t matter anymore. It was only the two of them in the wide sea, and, for now, his horizon was clear as far as eye could see.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think if that's something you wanna do! :)


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